We've Come So Far

"I've been under an extreme amount of stress lately," she sighed. Her pale brown eyes stared up and across the void between them, searching his facial expression for any signs of understanding, caring, or sympathy. His eyes were laced with concern and so many more emotions, and she realized that bearing her soul to him would be safe.

He was safe.

He sighed loudly and reached a large hand across the table, capturing her much smaller one. "I love you."

Sarah nodded.

His deep voice sighed, his eyes searching her as she had done him. She watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed back his pain and confusion. His eyes lit and he steadied himself as he softly spoke, "I do, Sarah. So please, tell me what's eating at you."

Sarah shook her head and ran an unsteady hand through her long locks. "I'm sorry, I can't.

* * *

"Something's wrong with Paul," the normally jubilant guitarist frowned. "He's not been right ever since we left for the airport."

Billy nodded.

Benji's eyes lit with hope. "So it's not just me?"

"Nope," Billy sighed. "But he won't talk about it. I tried, last night at the hotel. I tried to get it out of him, but he's just withdrawn. It's like something happened with Sarah, maybe?"

Benji shrugged.

"She hasn't called him yet," their friend interrupted, staring up at the pair from his book. "That might be it?"

"But they're not dating!" Benji exclaimed, frustrated.

Billy nodded slowly. "That's part of the problem, though."

"He desperately wants to be with that girl," Joel interrupted again. "She just can't take a hint."

"I dunno. He hasn't asked her," Benji sighed.

"Maybe that's the problem?" Billy theorized. "Maybe they're too shy to tell each other how they truly feel, so they're pulling away from each other to avoid being hurt. You know, a defense mechanism?"

Benji stared at his bandmate in awe and envy.

"Maybe?" Joel shrugged.

* * *

Lying curled around her biology textbook, Sarah heard the gentle notes of Evanescence's "Bring Me To Life" fill the air. She paused in her reading- not sorry to have to shift her mind away from talk of chromosomal abnormalities in zygotes- and searched for the offending cell phone. Her eyes focused in on it's location- on her desk- and she snatched the item into her hand and viewed the screen, blank, save for an unfamiliar phone number.

"Hello?" she groaned angrily. She hated answering the phone, especially when her Caller ID failed to assure her of the caller's identity.

"I'm sorry, Billy. I don't know what's wrong with him," she offered, hoping it would bring about a swift end to their terribly uncomfortable conversation.

"Well," Billy cleared his throat. "I'd like to ask you a favor then. If you can't do it or it makes you uncomfortable, then by all means-"

"What is it?" she interrupted.

"One sec," he sighed and she could tell he was taking the moment to mentally rehearse his next lines.

"Billy?" she groaned.

His voice was soft and unsure. "Yeah?"

"I'm not calling him!" she stated, matter-of-factly.

* * *

Curled against the headboard, absorbing his favorite anthology of Shakespearian works, Paul grimaced at the metallic ring. "FUCK OFF!" he yelled at the offensive little object.

The ringing continued to fill the small, dimly lit room.

"Who the fuck is calling me at," he paused and stared at the alarm clock, "noon!"

As he reached his head toward the cell phone, the ringing ended. He felt his body untense, and he smiled with victory. "Thank god!"

Then came the hollow sound of a knock on his hotelroom door.

"What the fuck is with people?" he growled throatily as he climbed off the bed, losing his page in the anthology as the book tumbled, forgotten, to the ground.

"Fuck," he grumbled.

He trudged toward the door, tripping over the pile of blankets that Billy had so carelessly flung from his mattress in the night. They'd gathered, how appropriately, in front of the door.

"FUCK," he growled and kicked at the white sheets feverishly. "I'm coming, just a fuckin minute."

His bare feet kicked at the mountain of covers as he silently cursed his bandmate, best friend, and roommate. "Fuckin slob."

As he reached to unlatch the intricate locks of the faux oak door, he heard the unmistakable sounds of female laughter. Just outside the door, in fact. Great, some groupie had discovered their whereabouts, and was no doubt about to flash some skin in a pathetic attempt to get his attention. A million possible outcomes ran through his mind as he fumbled with the final lock, realizing that, perhaps, a little female attention might not do him so bad. He needed it. Right about now, he felt unloved, unwanted, and decidedly unattractive.

"You going to open that door before we turn thirty, Paulie?" came the all-too-familiar voice.

His pulse raced as he threw back the door and stared into her gentle eyes. "Sarah?"

"No, I'm merely an illusion. Pinch yourself, Paulie, you're dreaming," she groaned as she shoved him from the doorway and stormed inside.

Paul stared out into the now empty hallway, slowly comprehending what had just occurred. Sarah- his Sarah- was here, in Bumfuck, Indiana, at his hotel. Somehow, through his shock and confusion, he'd managed to turn, shutting the door behind him, and walk toward the bed, where he found her fidgeting through her purse.

"I have to call Billy," she groaned, searching for her cell phone.

He furrowed his brow and stared at her, still disbelieving. "Why?"

Sarah wrinkled her nose and eyed him suspiciously. "To thank him? For the ticket?"

"The wha?" Paul mumbled.

"Airplane, Paul, airplane. Big thing that flies? People travel on them everyday to get from Point A to Point B?"

Paul nodded and watched her dial the small Nokia.

"Billy?" she sighed loudly. "Yes, I'm here."

He watched her lips move, watched her inhale every breath. Disbelief still tainted his thoughts as he watched her every move, the ever soft fall of a wisp of hair. She was here, he realized. It was real.

"PAUL!" she laughed and tugged his large body on top of her. They crashed to the mattress, and she smiled brilliantly to herself as she stared into his childlike brown eyes.

"What?" he laughed, trying to unbutton the fly of her plaid skirt.

"You are so uncoordinated," she grinned and pushed his overgrown hand away.

Paul shrugged. "I never said I wasn't."

"How do you manage to play bass?" she taunted, tugging the zipper of her skirt down and waiting for him to fully remove the garment.

"I'm really not sure," he grinned, his brows furrowed into one large caterpillar. "I always wondered that myself."

"Paul?" she laughed, grabbing onto the waistband of his shorts.

He stopped trying to tug the skirt off her hips and stared down at her questioningly. "Yeah?"

"Shut up!" she laughed.

* * *

"So then I said that I was worried that...." Billy paused in his story-telling and wrinkled his nose.

Chris nodded. "I heard it to, man."

"Did you?" Billy inquired, softly.

Benji and Joel nodded, too.

"It's Paul," Chris snorted and knocked a fist against the wall. "And Sarah."

"Oh," Billy sighed, dismissively. Then, as the reality of the situation sunk in, he heard himself practically shriek, "WAIT WHAT?"

* * *

"Mmm," Sarah moaned loudly as his lips slowly teased down her stomach.

"You like that?" he taunted, running his lips slowly over her baby soft skin as he spoke. She watched him intently, feeling her body react to his gruff, masculine groans and his calloused, large hands.

She arched her back, bringing more of her body into contact with his plump lips.

"You do," he winked. "You love it."

She let a soft moan escape her lips, building her volume slowly as he reached forward and gently inserted a finger into her tiny folds. His lips were so gentle and plush, so warm on her skin, the taste of him filling her even before their tongues touched. She tasted him, long for him, felt his finger slowly driving inside her with languid strokes.

After a good few minutes of exploring each other's mouths, Paul pulled away and licked his lips. "You taste so wonderful," he grinned.

"I want to taste you," she pleaded, her eyes displaying her unspoken message. He nodded and laid beside her on the bed, allowing her to climb atop his long torso.

"You're beautiful," he assured her, running his hands through her hair.

"So are you," she beamed as she began to massage his broad shoulders.

He ignored this, reaching between their bodies to slowly stroke himself. His eyes never left her own, staring through her as her pert breasts came into position just over his lips.

She smirked, signaling permission for him to reach up and take her right nipple gently between his teeth.

"Play nice, Tiger," she laughed, and swatted him away.

"I thought you liked having you-"

She interrupted by covering his lips with her own. "I do," she assured him as she pulled away. "But now it's your turn."

He smiled stupidly as she inched further and further down his body, her entire body snaking slowly forward to bring her carefully painted lips into contact with his throbbing erection. Reaching her tongue forward, she flicked the small head quickly, watching his entire body convulse with her pathetically short touch. "Down boy," she chided, placing a hand firmly onto his right thigh and squeezing.

"I'm under-sexed," he groaned, rolling his head from side to side.

"Sure," she laughed. "The rockstar is sexually frustrated."

He propped himself up on his elbows and frowned. "I am."

Sarah nodded as she slowly inched him inside her mouth.

"I never get laid," he groaned and collapsed back into the pillows.

"Mmmhmm," Sarah mumbled into his hard length. "Damn," he groaned. "That felt awesome. Do it again."

As her tongue glided slowly around his thickness, she added her petite hand to the mix; slowlying stroking him up and down in time with her oral movements. His moans urged her enthusiasm, and before long she knew he was close to exploding.

"No," she demanded and grabbed his erection firmly.

"Ouch," he groaned. "I have to cum."

Sarah giggled. "You will, baby, but play nice."

Paul's face was flushed, but he nodded and waited for her next command. He watched, silently, as she straddled his body, her hand guiding him inside her tight, velvety depths. She moaned as he sunk completely inside, and he placed his hands gently onto her hips to help guide her movements.

"So tight," he enthused, grinning.

"Gee thanks," she smirked and began to move her hips slowly.

He grinned, tossing his head back in appreciation of her hip swirls. His moans grew louder, and she was certain that whatever poor soul happened to be in the adjoining room was getting a free show.

Sarah was sorry to admit that she was desperately close to spiraling off the edge, as well. The experience was not going to last much longer, she knew, as she rose up off his length and then quickly lowered herself back down. "Fuck, Sar, you close?" he growled with great restraint.

She nodded, leaning forward to grab his forearms and kiss his lips forcefully. "I'm so close," she cooed into his lips. "So close."

"Me too," he groaned and shoved his hips forward, burying himself completely inside her. The couple moaned in unison.

* * *

"Dude, fuck off, I want a chance," Benji giggled as he shoved Chris away from the wall.